I am married to one great Dad

My husband has one memory of just hanging out with his Dad. One. That is it. He was 11 and they were playing ball. When we first married, I remember how fearful he was that he would turn out to be a Dad like his Dad.

I love that my God is a redeemer of what was lost.

I know it may seem biased – but it is 100% true – my husband is one awesome Dad.

And that is saying a lot, because I have high expectations for what makes a good Dad. See I have a really good Dad. And he comes from a long line of good Dads.

I know so many people who complain about their parents. My complaints? Um, my Dad used to make us hike. He used to always pick where we went on vacation. He never let me go out dressed like a hooker. He made me get a job. He wouldn’t buy me $100 jeans.

So when I say my husband is a good Dad, I really have the bar set high.

My husbands stays at home with the kids. No, not his first choice. Okay, maybe not even his fifth choice in careers. But he takes such good care of those kids – it still amazes me even seven years into it.

My son, he wants so much to be a man like his Dad. He loves helping him in the yard, doing “boy things”, playing Lego Batman together, and always, always wrestling. They have these stupid little jokes and games that they play together. They think it’s fun to gang up on me. But I just smile, because it makes me glad to see them have so much fun together.

My daughter loves him like you would not believe. Let’s be honest, she favors him over me. When she falls down, he is the one she wants. But I don’t fault her for that, because he has been the one with her daily since she the day she was born. And man, does she ever have him completely wrapped around her finger.

My baby girl – he could calm her down from the day she was born. She knew his voice right away. He was not afraid to hold her, feed her, change her, love her, even when she was so tiny. I completely trusted him alone with her since the day she was born. And now, he can make her smile like you wouldn’t believe.

My husband rarely cries – I’ve only seen him cry twice in 12 years. Once on our wedding day. The second was when I miscarried. When I saw him cry, I felt such a relief that someone else loved her as much as I did. I knew we would get through it together, and that I was not alone in my grief. He even loved the one who was lost with such a deep love.